i'm a people person

DEAR SHITTY MOM

Dear Shitty Mom:

That’s right. I said it. You’re a shitty mom. And an even worse human being.

I get it, Shitty. You’re tired. Your hole is blown out from fisting, lounging on the toilet (lid up) for countless hours while you give yourself a “home pedicure” and the ravages of gravity. Your other hole is blown out, (see: above stated reasons + years spent as drug mule/professional felching instructor.) Whoever was so stoned he forgot to pull out and blow a load on your face (a.k.a. your absent baby daddy/one time life guru) is no help. You have to do it all yourself.

And that takes a troll. I mean a toll. Yes. A toll. It’s taken a toll on your life.

And a troll.

Here’s the thing.

You and your kid, no matter HOW ROUGH things are, (and judging from your appearance, they are currently suspended somewhere between Al Franken’s escalating suicide watch and that one time George Clooney accidentally touched his wife’s vag), are NOT THE ONLY PEOPLE ON THIS FUCKING PLANE.

I don’t know if you’ve heard of this, since it’s only about thirty days from the year 2018, but there are these things called VACCINES that can shut down that motherfucking whooping cough that your kid apparently contracted from the last person who lived in the broken Lay-z-Boy you share with your son in some dudes cancer stricken moms last earthly possession/van that’s up on blocks in a burned out garage since he sold all her cancer drugs then stripped the van for parts to score the ingredients for meth only he can’t read so he never cooked it and you guys just shot up straight ammonia.

I mean, let’s be honest.

You are no stranger to needles. Get the poor bastard some shots.

At the MINIMUM, tell your FUCKING KID TO COVER HIS FUCKING MOUTH! Just because you can’t cover yours long enough to keep random cocks out of it while you sleep doesn’t mean he can’t cover his. That your remaining organs are savaged by multiple communicable diseases is no excuse for letting your progeny infect all the other passengers with SARS on this airborne tomb with a closed oxygen system.

Since you are on your way to Atlanta, maybe you can stop at the Center for Disease Control and they can give you a few additional tips on how to not be a completely selfish public health hazard. For example, STAY HOME…

Plus, you, know, covering your mouth (or maybe just closing it, sans cock) is, at the very least, good manners. Ok? Clearly, your life is long over. His is only partially decimated. At least give him a chance to become a meth DEALER instead of just a meth ADDICT.

It’s fucking seven am, and legit NO ONE on this plane can escape the constant barking of this offspring YOU BROUGHT INTO THE WORLD. That’s right. He’s YOUR responsibility. I have on headphones AND A hood and I still can’t hear anything except your fucking kid. And I need to sleep, you asshole! Everyone on this flight wants to sleep! It’s the day after Thanksgiving, twat! We all have turkey hangovers and need to rest so we can go buy a bunch of stupid holiday shit for all the people we are too cheap to spend full price on, and you’re fucking it up for everyone.